Time to Fly
by AnnieBrodieSangster
Summary: Now, while Ron had the kids, she would be able to go out as much as she wanted. There was always a silver lining in every cloud, even if that cloud was a divorce. / QLFC Season 2, Round 4. Oneshot.


_Quidditch League, Round 4_

_Position: Beater 1_

_Prompts: Disaster (word), Bird (word)_

_Start/End Adjective: Exciting_

_Word Count: 1,893_

* * *

Exciting nights out were Hermione's speciality. Before she and Ron were married, Hermione always planned her, Ginny and Katie's nights out. But then she became Hermione Weasley, Ginny Weasley became Ginny Potter, Katie Bell became Katie Wood and Hermione found that her "nights out" became a quick drink at the pub when they could, while Rose and Hugo were asleep.

So, to be honest, it came as a relief when Hermione realised that now, while Ron had the kids, she would be able to go out as much as she wanted. There was always a silver lining in every cloud, even if that cloud was a divorce.

It had been 6 months, but Hermione still found it hard to believe that Ron had been cheating on her. And with that slutty Quidditch player, of all people! It made Hermione feel sick.

But tonight, with no kids or job to keep her busy (for once), Hermione was going to forget it all and just have fun. Maybe meet a nice guy to take her mind off Ron. Rose was 5 and Hugo was 2 and they were at very impressionable ages, and Hermione hoped that she might meet someone else to be their new daddy soon. She really didn't want Ron looking after them; not after what he did to her.

Grabbing her handbag and wand, Hermione gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror to check she was ready, before leaving the house and murmuring _Colloportus _to lock the door behind her. Hermione lived in a block of flats that were home to many muggles, so she had to be careful not to do anything magical there. However, growing up with muggle parents helped her to blend in well with them.

* * *

By the time Hermione got to the pub, it was almost 9:30 p.m. She went over to the bar and ordered a drink, before surveying the scene around her. A few drunk, beefy men were in one corner, talking rowdily to each other. There were some other single ladies at the other corner, eyeing up a group of men who were playing pool.

The barman brought Hermione's cider over – the problem with muggle pubs was that there was no firewhiskey – and she took a small sip. Going out wasn't as fun without Ginny and Katie, Hermione thought sadly.

* * *

A while later, at around 10:30 p.m., the group of men in the corner got into a fight. They began pushing and shoving each other, and Hermione was watching, feeling worried but not overly concerned. That is, until one of them pulled out a wand.

_Oh no_, Hermione thought. _Not only could he cause serious damage, but he could also reveal magic to the rest of this pub!_

Hermione slowly reached into her bag and pulled out her own wand, at the same time unconsciously edging closer to the brawl.

Before she knew what was happening, Hermione was in the thick of the fight, with spells bouncing everywhere. Maybe she'd had a bit too much to drink, or maybe she just missed the excitement of a fight from her days with Harry, but Hermione was filled with adrenaline as she sent spell after spell at the people around her.

Her excitement ended rather abruptly, however, when somebody shouted "Incarcerous!" and Hermione suddenly found herself tied up and falling backwards. The last thing she saw was somebody lunging towards her to try, and fail, to stop her head from hitting a table leg. Then she blacked out.

* * *

"Easy, there. Take your time, there's no rush to sit up," cooed a soft, friendly voice. Hermione's eyes fluttered open then closed again and she groaned. "It's alright," the voice assured her. "You're perfectly fine. Just a mild concussion. You may experience headaches for a day or two, but you're good to go home if you want."

Hermione forced her eyes open again and tried to take in the blurry scene around her. A blonde man in a white doctor's coat stood in front of her. He had been the one talking. Putting a hand on the bedrail to steady herself, Hermione pulled herself upright into a sitting position. Her eyes misted over and she blinked rapidly to clear them. The man in front of her swam into view again.

He looked vaguely familiar, but his name was lost in the hazy memories of the headache that had consumed Hermione after the fight last night. "What… What happened?" she asked. How had such a normal and relaxing evening turn into such a disaster?

The mystery man smiled. "You got into a nasty fight, at that pub. Ex-death eaters, they were. They're in police holding cells now, but you needed medical attention so they brought you here."

Hermione frowned. "Police? Why are they with the muggles?" she asked, confused.

"Well, it was a public place and we edited the memories of the onlookers to remove the wands and magic, but we left the fight memory intact."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I'm sorry, but you seem familiar. Do I…?"

The doctor smiled again. "I would tell you," he began, looking down at the floor. "But you'll probably punch me." Hermione looked confused.

Staring intently at the man, she tried desperately to put a name to his face. Suddenly, it hit her. "Draco!" she cried, louder than she intended.

The doctor – Draco – cursed under his breath. "Yes," he sighed. "It is I. And you have every right to storm out of here if you wish, after everything I did to you, but let me just say first-"

Hermione laughed. "You think I hold grudges for things that happened over 10 years ago?" she asked. Draco shrugged.

"You would have every reason to, when it comes to me," he said simply.

Thinking back to their time at school together, Hermione could see what Draco meant. He had made her life hell and not cared an ounce. Any normal person would take Draco's advice and punch him. But Hermione was not normal. She believed people could change. She believed that everyone gets a choice on who they want to be, and they reserve the right to change that at any point.

She smiled at him. "What happened in the past is exactly that – the past. People can change, and I believe that you are one of those people."

Draco returned the smile gratefully. "Thank you," he replied. "Now, do you need assistance to stand up?"

* * *

As Hermione was leaving St. Mungo's she was stopped by an urgent-sounding shout from down the corridor; "Hermione, wait!"

Pausing and turning to see who called, Hermione found herself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy again. "What?" she asked worriedly.

Draco paused to catch his breath. It looked like he'd run here. "I know divorces can be tough," he said. "Especially when you have kids."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"Astoria and I are no longer married, either," Draco explained. "And we… We have a son. Scorpius. Astoria gave him up, though. She didn't want to keep anything of me around," he smiled bitterly. "She gave up her _son_ because I helped produce him. And she burnt all of my belongings, and all of the things I had given to Scorpius. Which was most of his things, actually – Astoria wasn't a very generous parent."

Hermione subconsciously placed a comforting hand on Draco's arm. "I'm sorry," she said, wincing at how empty and useless those words were. "I really am," and Hermione was surprised to find that she meant it. She actually was sorry for this man, the man who used to torment her every day, who had cursed her teeth to grow, who she had punched in the face… _Man, that was a good day_, she thought as she recalled the punch. And yet, in spite of all of that, here she was, comforting him about his breakup as if they were old friends. As if they were _good_ friends.

"Anyway," Draco continued. "I just wanted to tell you – well, ask you, really, if you would like to come out for dinner with me, one night. Just as friends, of course, I mean…" he trailed off, realising that if Hermione really did believe that he was a changed man, then there was surely nothing wrong with going out as _more_ than friends.

"I would love to," Hermione replied sincerely.

Draco's face lit up, not expecting to be taken up on the offer. "Great!" he said, unsure of what else he should say.

Hermione waited, to see if Draco said anything else. He did not. "Ok… What time? And place?" she asked.

"Oh! Right!" Draco remembered. He had been on shockingly few dates in his time, as he and Astoria had married very soon after The Great Battle of Hogwarts. "How about… My place, next Friday night?" he asked.

Next Friday. Hermione could already hardly wait. "Sure," she said. "Oh, wait…"

"What?"

"I just remembered," Hermione said glumly. "I have Rose next week. She'll have to come…"

Draco shrugged. "That's not a problem," he replied. "She and Scorpius can have a play together, and my house is plenty big enough. Especially after Astoria burned half of my furniture…" he trailed off again, not wanting to sour the conversation with talk of Astoria.

Hermione realised her hand was still on Draco's arm, and she went to pull it away, but Draco reached up his own hand and seized hers in his. "May I walk you to the door?" he asked, trying to sound as posh as possible.

Curtseying politely, Hermione nodded. "Lead on, Doctor Malfoy," she said.

So, hand in hand, Draco and Hermione walked together to the doors. When they reached the exit, Draco seemed reluctant to let go of Hermione's hand. "Goodbye for now, Draco," Hermione said quietly. Against her better judgement, she pulled him in for a quick hug.

When they pulled away, Hermione was surprised to find that she had tears in her eyes. "What is it?" Draco asked worriedly.

Hermione hastily wiped the tears away and tried her best to smile. "Oh, nothing," she said dismissively. "That hug just reminded me of all the hugs I shared with Ron…" Her memories of Ron were still tender, and stung painfully as she recalled all of the happy times she had shared with that man.

"I know how it feels," Draco assured Hermione. "It's been a year since Astoria left me, and it still hurts when I think of her. But remember," he allowed himself a small smile. "A divorce does not have to be bad. You and Ron, you are like birds. Ron, the Mother Bird, flew from the nest and left you all alone. You, a tiny baby bird, have never coped without Mother before. But then, when you are alone in a pit of despair, when you feel nothing can save you, you discover that you have your own wings. And you can fly away yourself, into the great unknown of the single world. But before you can do this, you suffer the most painful time – the time when there is no nourishment, no company, nothing. But you have to get through this time, and get ready for when it's time to fly."

Hermione was, to say the least, stunned by this outburst. It was so profound.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Draco?"

"It's time to fly."

* * *

Next Friday night, Hermione was ready to go out. She had her wand, she had her bag, she had Rose clutched onto her side and Hugo falling asleep in her arms. She was ready.

But she was more than ready. She was _prepared_. She was prepared for all the happiness and heartbreak of the single world. But, she promised herself now, she would not cower in fear at the complexity of it all. She would stand tall and, no matter what, she would think of it as _exciting_.


End file.
